


The Shape of Love

by WinterCricket



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas, MAAS Sarah J. - Works
Genre: F/M, I'm meet-cute trash :)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-12
Updated: 2018-07-12
Packaged: 2019-06-09 12:17:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15267342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WinterCricket/pseuds/WinterCricket
Summary: Quick one-shot inspired by one of my favourite songs at the minute :)





	The Shape of Love

Lucien slicked his sodden hair behind his ear once again, wishing that he’d remembered a hair tie that morning. Almost immediately it slipped back down again, an obnoxious drop of rainwater sliding down a strand and splashing into the cup of tea he cradled against his chest. He sighed, futilely tucking it back behind his ear as he took a long sip, relishing the warmth that trickled down his throat.

He’d been caught completely unawares by the sudden spring storm on his way home from work, and had been forced to seek refuge in the nearest shop or risk ruining his suit entirely. Thankfully, the first shop he’d found had been a quaint little tearoom filled with plush sofas and plentiful books, so he was more than content to wait out the deluge. He would never have set foot in here without the excuse of the weather, but a part of him was glad to curl up in a chair with his notes for an hour.

The bell above the cafe door rang again, and as Lucien set his mug down he absently glanced up at the new visitor. He was immediately glad that he’d put his drink down, or there was a good chance he would have been wearing it and ended up even more soaked through than before.

The woman that had walked in was breathtakingly beautiful, porcelain cheeks flushed pink and chest heaving as she glanced around the room - she’d evidently been caught out as well, and had run to find shelter. Her dress - a pale, flowery number that would have floated on the breeze were it not weighed down by rainwater - clung to her petite frame, and her mouse-brown hair was plastered to her shoulders. 

Lucien had to fight off the urge to rush to her side and sling his jacket around her shoulders, and instead made himself return to his reading, trying to ignore her as she floated across the room to the counter.

He heard her order tea and a scone, even though he was trying his hardest to ignore everything she said. Even her voice was beautiful - lilting and sing-song, every word a lullaby that he would dream about later.

His red hair sagged forwards again, obscuring his view of his notes - not that he was really reading them, anyway - and he glanced up again to see her gazing around the room in rapture as she waited for her drink. Her makeup was smeared around her eyes, and the way her ears poked out through her sodden hair made Lucien think immediately of an inquisitive mouse, but he had never found anyone so instantaneously attractive before. Her face seemed infinitely familiar, but he knew he’d never met her before - he’d remember her, for sure.

She shivered, visibly, rubbing her arms in a futile attempt to get warm again, and Lucien again had to hold himself back from rushing to get her warm. Instead, he pointlessly stirred his tea, fumbling through his bag for something to do. Everything he touched was damp, and he internally cursed the weather for turning on him.

“Is anyone sat here?”

That sing-song voice made him whip his head up, to find the subject of his attentions stood by his table, gesturing to the seat across from him. Lucien blinked up at her, completely transfixed as she giggled - _giggled_ \- at his distractedness. When he didn’t respond immediately, she nodded at the seat again. “Can I sit here?”

“Yes - I mean, no-- I mean--” Lucien broke off, rubbing the back of his neck as he laughed awkwardly at himself. “No, no-one is sat there. Yes, you can-- if you want to, that is.”

She laughed again - a melodious sound that made his heart somersault - and sat delicately, setting her mug on the table. “Thank you,” she said quietly, then nodded at the notes in his hand. “Don’t let me distract you.”

 _Too late for that,_ Lucien thought internally, but turned back to it anyway, determined not to get carried away. Her hand appeared in his peripheral vision, though, and he looked up to find her grinning at him.

“I’m Elain,” she said happily, eyes sparkling merrily. “Pleased to meet you.”

Lucien hesitated for a moment, then shook her extended hand, every inch of skin that touched her tingling pleasantly. “I’m Lucien,” he said, mirroring her smile. Suddenly, he was much more content to be stuck in the coffee shop. “The pleasure’s all mine.”


End file.
